Possessive Fake Husband

They’re in all different shapes and sizes. Some are old classics and some are brand new sports cars. I recognize a few, like Mustangs and Porsches and BMWs, but there are a few exotics that I’ve never seen before.

I take a tentative step forward. “Oh my god,” I say.

“I know.” I look over and spot Josh standing near a bank of light switches, his arms crossed. “It’s insane, right?”

“There’s no way we can do them all.”

“We definitely can. It’ll just take all day.” He sighs, shaking his head.

“Seriously. This is insane.”

“I know.” He walks off toward a little room built into the near corner of the building. He fiddles with the door and gets it open. “Oh, hey, cleaning stuff in here.” He flips on another light and I walk over, joining him in the supply closet.

There are car parts, some still in the plastic, and a myriad of other car stuff. There’s even a little bucket full of air fresheners. Josh grabs a bucket, some sponges, some cleaning products, and carries it back out into the main room. “Now we just need water.”

“Josh,” I say.

He frowns. “What?”

“We’re not really doing this.”

“Of course we are.” He rolls up his sleeves. “We need his vote.”

“There are probably hundreds of cars in here.”

He shrugs. “Maybe. Want to count?”

“Not at all.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun. We’ll count as we clean.”

“Josh.”

He sighs and walks over to me. He puts his hands on my shoulders and stares into my eyes. “Listen to me. This is going to be the easiest part of this whole thing. All we need to do is clean these cars. We don’t even have to do a good job, there’s no way he’ll double-check them all. We’ll do the best we can, get them all washed, and move on from there. Okay?”

I clench my jaw. I want to get out of there. The idea of washing this crazy man’s cars all day drives me insane with anger.

But Josh is right. This is what we have to do, and so we’ll do it. No more messing around, no more holding back. We’re washing some cars.

“Okay,” I say. “Let’s get it done.”

“Atta girl.” He laughs and walks off. “Now help me find a hose.”

It takes a few minutes but we find a hose tucked in the far corner. Once we get that turned on, the rest goes pretty easy. We start with the closest car, some classic truck, and start washing. He hoses while I scrub, then he joins in scrubbing until it’s finished, then I hose it off while he dries. There are drains in the floor, so clearly this was all thought out ahead of time.

We switch jobs as we go. The first few cars are annoying because we don’t have a rhythm down yet, but soon enough we’re washing and drying like old pros, whipping from car to car like it’s nothing. I count ten cars before we’re even on to the next row.

“There has to be at least a hundred and fifty,” I say.

“I know. It’s insane. I bet he’s been collecting for years.”

“And they just sit there? Out in some random suburb?”

He laughs, scrubbing away at the hood of a bright red spots car. “I know. Imagine if someone broke in here.”

“I bet they have. What would you even do? Open the big doors and drive one out?”

“Good point.” He sighs and grabs the hose, cleaning off the tires. “You know, I’ve been wondering something.”

“Yeah?”

“About your dad.” He looks at me. “Are you guys close?”

“I guess,” I say, cleaning away. I’m wet and my arms are starting to get tired, and we’re not even halfway through. This is going to be a miserable day.

“What does that mean?”

“Well, my mom died,” I say. “I was six when it happened. I still remember her but it’s a little… fuzzy.”

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I can’t imagine what it would’ve been like growing up without a parent.”

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago. Dad was pretty broken up about it at first but then he sort of… threw himself into our relationship.”

“Yeah? That’s good, right?”

“Wrong.” I laugh a little. “He overdid it, you know? Got a little too clingy. It was nice when I was a little girl, but then I became a teenager and he was a little overprotective. He brought me into work and showed me the ropes a little bit, even paid me for some stuff, but good luck bringing home a boy.”

He laughed. “You bring home a lot of boys?”

“Nope. Dad would’ve chased them all off. Anyway, I wasn’t very attractive when I was younger.”

“I doubt that. Look at you now.”

“I wasn’t always so stunning.”

He laughs. “I know you’re joking, but you are stunning. And I bet you were back then, too. You just didn’t notice.”

“Yeah, maybe. I don’t know. But either way, my dad was really into being my dad. We fought as I got older and that sort of screwed things up.”